Thursday, April 30, 2009
On Tuesday, I had my worst day yet in the nausea department. I felt faint in the shower, had to take a time out several times during my getting-ready regimen (note to self: flipping head upside-down to blow dry whilst nauseated is not a good strategy), and barely kept it together at work by keeping a constant stream of small bits of food doing down the hatch. I got a little panicky: if this is what the nausea feels like at 6w5d, how barfalicious am I going to be at 8w?
Yesterday, I felt better. So of course I panicked. WHAT DOES THIS MEAN? The throbbing boobs and extreme fatigue weren't enough -- why didn't I want to hurl?!?
Well, ask and you shall receive. I spent two hours in the middle of the night last night taking shallow breaths and wandering desolately back and forth between the bed and the toilet. No barfing, but still. Yuck. And today I am struggling -- physically with the nausea, and psychologically with the fact that my office is under construction and only available ladies room is on another floor on the opposite end of the building. There's no way I'm making it if Senor Barfy decides to come out and play.
Tomorrow, I will undoubtedly be back to obsess over the fact that I feel fine. You really can't win on this blog!
Oh, and a note on poop: thanks to everyone for their suggestions and commiseration. I seem to be winning the battle at the moment with a combination of Jamba Juice smoothies with a Flax n' Fiber boost (I love the way the guy behind the counter looks at me when I order this EVERY MORNING -- he probably wishes I would exit the store butt first), lots of fresh fruit and water, and a variety of fiber bars and cereals.
So, one out of four major symptoms under control. If I were a baseball player with that kind of average, I'd get sent down to Triple-A, but at this point I'll take it.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
I'm not going to go into any actual physical detail, but let's just say that since my weekly PIO shot last Wednesday, I've been fighting the Battle of the Bowel. I'd somehow made it 33 years without having any issues in this department, so I was at a loss. I complained to my acupuncturist, and he laughed and told me I was "full of sh**." Hilarious, buddy.
The internets yielded all sorts of helpful suggestions, so in case there's anyone out there having similar issues, here's what worked for me:
- Metamucil -- easily the worlds foulest ingestible substance. Who thought a drink could be chewy?
- High-fiber meal replacement bars -- anything with more than 5g fiber -- Odwalla Berries GoMega is one example. I also found a "Flavor & Fiber" bar at Trader Joe's with 12g of fiber -- I bought it but I'm a little afraid to eat it. Anyone remember Colon Blow?
- Kiwifruit -- one of the corners of the web told me that kiwis were good for this stuff. At the very least, they're really tasty.
- Lots and lots of water
Monday, April 27, 2009
We got a Wii Fit for Christmas, and for many a week I dutifully logged in every day, tracking my weight, logging my workouts, and doing some yoga. I loved it, and spent months trying to get the Mr. to get on board. Finally, just as I was starting my IVF needle habit, he started to use it for his weekly weigh-in. (Don't even get me started on how he's been able to work out an extra day or two a week and drop 10 pounds. NOT FAIR.)
Last week, I was in the shower while he was weighing in. I hear him running down the hall and into the bathroom, shouting "BUUUUUSSSSTED!!!"
Apparently my darling little Wii Fit ratted me out. "Have you seen Barefoot? She hasn't logged in for 45 days!" And then: "Maybe you should keep a closer eye on her, so that she can reach her weight loss goals!"
My goals right now? To not bust out of my pants before the end of the first trimester. Extra points if I can avoid a new bra purchase for another month.
And maybe to unhook the Wii Fit. We'll see how sassy he is when he's unplugged.
Friday, April 24, 2009
But first, a couple of updates. I know you all are dying to know how my boobs are doing. In a word: bigger. It's unbelievable. The Mr. is enthralled; I am disgusted. I guess the silver lining is that they are distracting the world from my stomach, which is a little pooch-a-licious right now.
The other piece of fantastic news from yesterday's appointment is that I got the all-clear to start working out again. I'm not supposed to go crazy, but I can walk, bike and swim, which makes me so very happy. I went to the gym this morning for the first time in weeks, and I feel so much better today. I'm not sure I'll be able to keep up my pre-IVF 5-6 day-a-week regimen, but I think even half that will help me combat fatigue, bloat and all of the other fun things that are going on right now.
So, FabFooFriday. Or in this case, FabBritFriday. The "Brit" is Ms. Britney Spears, whose concert I attended on Wednesday night, somewhat against my will. I have to say, though, that the show (and the fans) were very entertaining. My take-aways:
1. If you are a single guy (because I'm sure there are loads of you reading this blog), get yourself to a Britney concert ASAP. It will be like shooting fish in a barrel. Squealing, stampeding fish.
2. The fashions that Britney sports do not work for the average person. Seriously. I mean, I donned my share of crucifixes and black lace during the Madonna era, but no one over 18 (or under, for that matter) needs to wear hot pants unless you are a certain kind of professional.
3. Speaking of Madonna, hasn't she already done the whole writhing on a bed while simulating self-stimulation thing? Does another generation of young minds really need to be subjected to this sight? If Wednesday night was any indication, apparently so.
4. I am now somewhat terrified that my unborn child(ren) will spring from my loins as huge Britney fans. The sound system was so effing loud, I'm quite certain "If U Seek Amy" is now part of their genetic makeup.
And finally, because it's FabFooFriday:
My hot dog and soft pretzel were delish.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
And a second sac!
Peanut A (who is currently known as The Showoff, because he/she popped up like a champ on every ultrasound angle) is measuring at 5w6d, with a nifty little heart rate of 140. Peanut B is measuring at 5w5d, but the RE wasn't sure if he could see a heartbeat or not. B definitely looked smaller, but I guess that could have been the angle.
The RE gave B a 35% shot at making it -- he said that in most cases he's seen like this, that's been the result. So oddly, our chances of having twins are pretty much the same as they were 3 weeks ago at our transfer. We should know for sure what's going on at our next ultrasound in 2 weeks.
I'm still processing all of this, but am so so happy we saw one heartbeat....it's more than I hoped for, frankly. I feel like I can't commit to being happy about twins, since things are still so up in the air. So I'll just hang with my Peanuts, feed them lots of good food, take them for walks and swims and acupuncture and pedicures, and wait.
Thanks for all of the super-supportive comments over the last few days....you all are the best.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
I did have one extremely annoying work interaction today. One of the lawyers in my office is unexpectedly expecting identical twins. I hadn't seen her in a while, and asked how she was feeling. I got a 10-minute diatribe on how pregnancy is "awful," how "people should really know that twins can happen and it's such a curse," and how no one in the family (including her 2-year-old daughter) is happy about the pregnancy. Seriously? Not even a little bit happy? No one?
I know I can't understand her circumstances -- obviously, having never been accidentally pregnant myself -- so I'm trying to reserve judgement. But it will be pretty funny if it turns out tomorrow that I'm having twins (not likely, but still within the realm of possibility). Do I get to tell her how mother-effing happy I am about it?!? For 10 minutes?!?
Now on to the feet. I've had several lovely comments about my toes in recent blog posts. Thank you. As someone who grew up with a stepmother who regularly told her how ugly her feet were, it's nice to now have feet that I can take a picture of and post for all of the world wide web to see.
But, I have a confession. I do not paint my toes myself. I spend an ungodly amount of money on pedicures -- they're even factored into my monthly budget. And I don't just get a regular old pedicure -- I get the super spa pedicure with the sea salt scrub, paraffin wax, and extra leg massage. My big concession to the tanking economy has been to stretch my pedis to every 3 weeks (instead of every two).
The Mr. thinks I'm ridiculous, and he's probably right. I try to justify that I work really long hours, that I deserve a bit of relaxation in the midst of all of the infertility crap, that I'm supporting the economy and am a good tipper, and that it's good for my feet (probably the lamest justification ever). But it's my little ritual and I love it.
I blame my stepmother. And have her take me for a pedicure whenever I'm in town.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
My infertility story: I'm a little bit pregnant after 2.5 years of trying, including 4 Clomid cycles and 1 IVF cycle. I'm 33 years old, hypothyroid, and married to a wonderful man with not-quite-so-wonderful amounts of sperm. I started this blog just as we were starting our IVF cycle, so if you're curious about how that went down you can read the whole sordid tale right here.
Other things about me: I love food and wine, and write about them here (although the wine not so much right now). I've also been known to consume a bit of TV programming, including such cultural gems as American Idol and Gossip Girl. I live in Northern California. I've got a high-stress job that honestly seems a lot less stressful after dealing with the stress of trying to get knocked up.
I'm amazed by the ALI blog community, and can't imagine getting through the last couple of months without the support, stories and strength of all of the women (and men!) who put the most sensitive parts of their lives out on the internets. I'm looking forward to getting to know even more of you this week!
Monday, April 20, 2009
Intellectually, I know that I'm not going to have every pregnancy symptom in the book (probably). But I also know that progesterone could still be causing some of these symptoms, and that I could be having textbook symptoms and still have a bad ultrasound. Does the worrying ever stop?!? (I know the answer to this.)
I sense that the Mr. is having similar concerns, although we haven't really spoken about it. A week ago, we were joking about the baby needing pizza, or a backrub, or to watch American Idol instead of SportsCenter. The giddy jokes have tapered off, which is a little sad. I'm praying that we have reason on Thursday to ramp them back up again.
On a lighter note, we did allow ourselves one brief moment of baby-related revelry. We walked into town on Saturday night for dinner, and stopped to browse in -- GASP! -- Pottery Barn Kids. I've spent a fair amount of time in baby stores buying what seems like a hundred baby shower gifts in the last year, but the Mr. had never really been involved. It was pretty cute watching him inspect the cribs, sit in the gliders, and mull over whether he could live with a roomful of pink accessories should the Peanut be a Pea-nette.
And then we went out for Mexican food.
Because baby needed some refried beans.
Friday, April 17, 2009
But this morning I woke up (after having a bit of an improper dream involving Dr. Gregory House -- WTF?) to the trifecta -- nausea, headache, and fatigue so extreme that I'm pretty sure I nodded off standing up in the shower. I am struggling mightily at work today -- TGI frickin' F -- and am so excited to get to sleep in a little tomorrow and have some serious weekend nappage.
Oh, and I actually did briefly trap a cat under one of my boobs last night. He survived, but I'm pretty sure he's sleeping on the Mr.'s side of the bed tonight.
Aaaaanyway, it's Friday. And it's the first Friday after Lent. So not only can I talk about food, but I can talk about beef. Tasty, tasty beef. It's shaping up to be a beautifully warm weekend, so I think we're going to kick things off by barbecuing up a flank steak, with a kick-ass marinade that I adopted from Epicurious (I think). It's really simple and really really good.
Flank Steak (or other grillable beef) Marinade
2 c. red wine (doesn't have to be great, but shouldn't be dreck. Cabs and Shirazes seem to work best)
1/4 c. soy sauce
1 T olive oil
3-4 cloves garlic, roughly chopped (fresh is waaaay better than jarred)
1/2 t dried rosemary
1/2 t dried oregano
1 t dried parsley
salt and pepper to taste
Combine all ingredients in a bowl. Add meat, cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate for 1-2 hours. Grill and enjoy!
Thursday, April 16, 2009
I was not exactly a flat-chested girl to begin with. I started this whole infertility journey as a 34C, then grew to a 34DD via some combination of weight gain and meds. Midway through my IVF cycle, I could barely latch my bra and bought a couple of 34DDDs. And today, just about two weeks later, I am sporting the dreaded quadra-boob. (For those of you not familiar with quadra-boob, it is the phenomenon by which a too-large boob spills over a too-small cup, creating an oh-so attractive four-lumpy-boob look).
And it's not just the size. The girls HURT. It's gotten so bad that I've started wearing a sports bra to bed, because the pain of these suckers flapping around in the middle of the night actually woke me up a couple of times. Also, I am afraid of suffocating a cat under one of my loose, giant knockers.
So, here I am. Five weeks in, and my husband is already referring to the girls as "melons" (lovingly, of course -- he is a guy, after all).
My cups runneth over.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
But, complain I will. Yesterday in the mail I received a lovely bill from the anesthesiologist from the retrieval for $720. It had a nice little note ALL IN CAPS informing me that coverage had been denied, and it was my responsibility, and PLEASE PAY RIGHT NOW, NOT LATER.
This didn't sound right to me, and I verified in my insurance docs that anesthesia was not excluded, so I called the insurance company, then the anesthesiologist's office, and three miraculous things happened:
1. The insurance company rep was nice, and I was actually smiling when I hung up the phone.
2. The anesthesiologist billing lady was nice (although it sounded like she'd had a 3 pack-a-day habit for the last 40 years), and I was also smiling when I hung up the phone.
3. Both agreed that it was some sort of glitch, and that everything should be covered and straightened out right away, at no expense to me.
All of this transpired in under 10 minutes, and I didn't even have to go all bitch on them. I tells ya, an insurance miracle.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
-- Went to Hollywood party with my RE; met Paris Hilton
-- Found out that my clinic accidentally used donor sperm; plotted giant lawsuit
-- "Accidentally" did a bo.ng hit; freaked out
-- Got my period, ungot my period, met Carrie Underwood
Scary, hunh? And yet I still want to sleep ALL. THE. DAMN. TIME.
Monday, April 13, 2009
I know enough to know that there's a whole boatload of things that can go wrong in the coming weeks and months. But I am trying my best to be a happy pregnant person for as long as I possibly can. And not fall asleep on my desk, because that's where I'm totally heading right now.
The only bump in the road of this past happy weekend was our movie selection last night: Marley & Me. If you are cycling and/or otherwise full of hormones, I urge you to stay away from this evil movie cloaked behind a cute puppy on the DVD box. Sure, there are cute puppies and many other cute doggie things, but you will pay for every second of cuteness with the SADDEST ENDING EVER. I have seen the Mr. cry slightly twice in the 10 years I've known him, and he was shaking and sobbing and bawling (so was I, but I cry watching Grey's Anatomy so am not a good barometer).
Oh, and there's a bad sonogram scene. I tells ya, leave Marley on the damn shelf. Eric Dane doesn't even make it worth the heartache.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Friday, April 10, 2009
Anyway, I'm still holding my breath for tomorrow's second beta, so am back to my usual distraction topic -- food. Unfortunately, today being Good Friday and all, it will not be a particularly fabulous day in the food department. But I am already plotting and planning for Sunday, when I will at long last be able to enjoy the wonders of bread and parmesan cheese. Unfortunately, our favorite pizza joint will be closed on Easter (I already encountered that heartbreak last year), so we may have to improvise. Oh, and the Mr. gave up booze, so he wants to make the rounds so that he can have a couple of martinis.
I guess I will be the designated driver!
Thursday, April 9, 2009
I want to thank you all so so much for all of the good juju -- I read all of your comments this morning on my way to get my blood drawn, and I can't even begin to tell you how much the support meant to us, especially since we haven't told many people in "real" life. (Although I don't know how much more real you get than this!)
We have another blood draw on Saturday....I know we've still got a looong way to go and so much can happen but I can't believe I've actually managed to get knocked up for the first time ever.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
So, as the time drrraaaagggs by, I'm trying to focus on the things that are making me smile today:
1) The big, lopsided circles on my butt where the Mr. had to re-tattoo me with a Sharpie for my PIO shots.
2) The furry little purry kitty head that was on my pillow this morning when I woke up. (Not making me smile as much -- the furry little piece of kitty hair that it took me 20 minutes to get out of my eye.)
3) The fact that it only took me 5 minutes to get through the Bay Bridge Toll Plaza this morning on the way to work.
4) The fact that the Mr. will have dinner waiting for me when I get home tonight.
5) The big bowl of pho I just ate. (Yes, it's all about food with me right now.)
6) The fact that in 24 or so hours, I will either be celebrating or drinking very good red wine out of a VERY LARGE glass.
Heartfelt thanks to my bud Carrie for tagging me with the Sisterhood Award. Not only is it an incredibly touching gesture (and a reminder of just how much support I've gotten in the last few weeks from Carrie and so many others of you), but it's also great distraction from my twice-hourly panty-checking routine. Thanks, Carrie. :)
Here are the rules:
1. Put the logo on your blog or post.
2. Nominate 10 blogs with great attitude and/or gratitude.
3. Be sure to link to your nominees in your post.
4. Let your nominees know they have received the award by leaving them a comment on their blog.
5. Be sure to link this post to the person who nominated you for the award
Here's my list -- you guys have been such a support and source of good humor and inspiration. And so strong!
A Little Hope
life is good
Listening for little steps
Mustard Seed Baby
My Journey with Endometriosis
Parenthood for Me
Sayler, Am I Pregnant Yet?
With God, All Things Are Possible
Yes, yes, there are 12. Sorry. And I probably would have kept going, if Carrie hadn't done such a good job of picking her list!
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
One very sniffly and bitchy person.
The bitchitude leads me further down the road of believing I'm about to get my period. Can you tell I'm a bit obsessed with my period? The good news is that I'm probably clocking a mile a day to and from the bathroom (my office has long halls). The bad news is that, well, I'm a bitch.
Monday, April 6, 2009
I somehow managed to stop myself from peeing on a stick, because 1) every time I pee on stick, I get my period immediately afterwards, and 2) the Mr. is seriously opposed to testing because he thinks it will make my mental state even worse. I'M NOT SURE HOW THAT IS POSSIBLE.
So, this morning I consulted Dr. Google and Dr. Infertility Blogosphere and learned that progesterone can provide that magical combination of both period AND pregnancy symptoms. So the fact that I am bloated, constipated, crampy, sweaty, cranky and crazy could really mean anything.
And isn't that comforting?
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Like I said -- nothing to report.
Is it Thursday yet?
Friday, April 3, 2009
"where to buy a fake pregnancy tummys"
Well. I am currently sporting what one might call a fake pregnancy tummy, gained by the injection and other administration of thousands of dollars worth of IVF drugs, but I'm sure there is a cheaper way to achieve said effect. Hopefully these folks found it!
Because I'm an HTML dunce and don't know how to hide part of my post, I'll post one of my favorite easy soup recipes in the comments for anyone who'd like to get souped up this weekend.
I know it's way too early for any meaningful symptoms (not to mention the lovely progesterone cocktail* running through my veins), but I am tired as hell despite sleeping like a log every night (very unusual for insomniac me) and have been feeling like hurling on and off for the last two days. And this morning's odd development is that I brewed myself up a tasty cup of decaf, and then was so totally turned off by the smell that I couldn't drink it.
I know this is probably all in my head, but since I'm pretty much living in my head these days it all seems like a very big deal.
*By the way, did I mention that I could really use a cocktail?!?!?
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
In not quite as good news, we got word this morning that only one of our other little guys made it to freeze. But he (she?) is a "big, beautiful blastocyst -- even bigger than the ones [we] put in yesterday," quoth the doctor. So we're thankful for that -- I guess I just got carried away in my mind that all of our embies would miraculously make it and that we'd have a basketball team.
And this is why you should never think about serious topics while on drugs.